In Parsha Vayera we learn about the hachnosas orchim of Avraham Avinu, and how Hashem sent three malachom dressed as Arabs to Avraham and he served them a gourmet meal. After Avraham served the meal, they inquired about the whereabouts of his wife Sorah, and Avraham responded that she was in the tent. Rashi notes that the malochim certainly knew where Sorah was, but they nevertheless asked in order to give themselves an opportunity to praise her modesty, thereby endearing her to her husband.
In his kuntres [booklet] Ma’amarei Hadracha L’Chassanim (pg. 27), Rav Shlomah Wolbe questions the conduct of the malachim. It is customary to dance before the kallah and praise her when speaking at a sheva berachos to raise her up in her new husband’s eyes and cement the bond between them. At this point, Avraham was 99 and Sorah was 89, and they had already been married for many years. By now, Avraham certainly recognized Sorah’s greatness, and if not, nothing their guests said would help. Why did the malochim need to accent her modesty to further lift her up in Avraham’s eyes?
Rav Wolbe answers that the malochim were teaching Avraham – and us – that increasing endearment and deepening the relationship between a husband and wife must continue throughout the couple’s entire married life. Marriage is not a one-time event that takes place at the wedding, but an ongoing dynamic process whose greatest enemy is routine. If the connection between Avraham and Sorah, who had been married for decades, still needed strengthening and renewal, how much more must we strive to constantly develop our feelings of appreciation and respect for our spouses.
As a contemporary illustration of this idea, Rav Yissocher Frand recounts that an American named Rabbi Dovid Hershowitz went to study in the Mir yeshiva in Europe in the 1930s, after which he returned to the United States. Several decades later, he traveled to Eretz Yisroel, where his itinerary included a visit to Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz, his old friend from yeshiva. They both enjoyed the reunion, and after they spoke for a while, Rav Chaim invited Rabbi Hershowitz to join him for lunch.
As they entered his apartment, Rav Chaim asked his wife, “What’s for lunch today?” The Rebbetzin responded that she was serving chicken and rice. When the illustrious Rosh Yeshiva sat down at the table, he devoured all the food on his plate and remarked that the spices his wife used to make the food were especially delicious. He then asked for more food and promptly finished off another portion, again complimenting his wife’s exceptional culinary talents. Rav Hershowitz was shocked by what he had observed. After the Rebbetzin left the room, he respectfully asked his host, “In Europe, the only thing you cared about was your Torah learning, to the extent that we had to remind you to eat. Even when you ate, we had to remind you to bentch because you forgot that you ate. How could it be that so many years later you now clean your plate multiple times and discuss recipes with your wife!?”
Rav Chaim responded, “I invest tremendous time and effort into the shiurim I give. I know how deep and profound they are, but when a young bochur comes up after a shiur and tells me how much he enjoyed it, it still makes me feel good. Even though he could not have possibly grasped all the intricacies I discussed, it is human nature to feel uplifted when receiving a sincere compliment.
“This lunch is my Rebbetzin’s shiur, and she works hard to ensure that I am well-fed and nourished. Just like the bochur who comes over after my shiur, I eat everything she serves me with gusto, not because I have become a glutton, but to make her feel good that her ‘shiur’ was well-received.” Even though this story took place when Rav Chaim had been married for several decades, he understood the lesson of the malochim and worked to make sure that his wife felt cherished every day of their married life. (R’ Ozer Alport)
